by Kate Hill
The Elixir Maidens: Bitten, Again
Kate Hill
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2006 Kate Hill
No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file copying or sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Changeling Press LLC. Willful violation of this policy will result in suspension of account privileges and will lead to prosecution.
WARNING: Illegal files may contain viruses.
ISBN (10) 1-59596-502-5
ISBN (13) 978-1-59596-502-8
Formats Available:
HTML, Adobe PDF,
MobiPocket, Microsoft Reader
Publisher:
Changeling Press LLC
PO Box 1046
Martinsburg, WV 25402-1046
www.ChangelingPress.com
Editor: Sheri Ross Fogarty
Cover Artist: Fabiano Fabris
This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
Chapter One
Nigel glanced around the club section of Burgundy Peak, a popular vampire hangout. Tonight the room was reserved for a special event -- the wedding of Nigel’s vampiric offspring, Sondra, and the love of her life, Richie. The tables were covered with black lace tablecloths and each had a centerpiece of red roses. A soft rock song spun by the DJ drifted on the air, and all around people talked, laughed and danced while enjoying a delicious buffet dinner. Nigel had planned and paid for the entire wedding as part of his gift to the couple. A symbol of good will that he had truly accepted Richie into the family, so to speak.
Taking a long sip of blood-laced wine, Nigel attempted to kill the bitterness that rose inside him every time he thought about Richie’s profession. Of all the men Sondra had to choose from, why did she decide upon someone who personified everything Nigel had tried to shield her from?
She was more than just his vampiric offspring. She was his foster daughter. Sondra had been a child when he’d taken her in after she’d lost her family in a wagon accident in the early 1800s. He loved her like his own child, and when she’d reached adulthood and asked him to make her his completely by binding her with his blood, he’d done so without hesitation. He’d raised her to respect life, both human and vampire, and to adhere to a strict moral code. He’d set the boundaries for acceptable behavior and she had obeyed without question -- until she’d met Richie.
Nigel glanced toward the dance floor where the couple held one another, gazing deeply into each other’s eyes. A slight smile tugged at Nigel’s lips when he noted her blissful expression.
There was no doubt she loved Richie with all her heart. When Nigel had demanded she choose between him and Richie, she’d sided with her lover. Nigel had known then he was beaten. It was either lose his daughter or accept a man he considered completely unsuitable for her. So much for pride and common sense. His affection for Sondra won out. At least Richie seemed to love her as much as she loved him.
On a personal level, Nigel had to admit Richie was a nice guy. He had a good sense of humor and treated Sondra like a goddess. The only problem was his damn career. Why did the man have to be a female impersonator, a singer with the drag queen band The Elixir Maidens? Worst of all, he seemed to enjoy his alter ego, Crimson, and Sondra liked her -- him -- whatever, as well. Of course, along with Richie came his band-mates and their boyfriends. The whole idea of men openly admitting their love for each other irked Nigel beyond reason. It wasn’t even the Maidens themselves or their lovers he hated, but the way they flaunted a lifestyle best kept hidden.
He took another swallow from his glass. Richie had dressed in a tux and ditched his makeup for the wedding. Not that he usually went around in drag outside of his performances, unlike his co-worker, Ruby, who sat beside Nigel at the table. The fucker looked almost as pretty as Sondra. At least he’d had the good taste not to wear white.
“It was a lovely ceremony, wasn’t it?” said the man seated to Nigel’s other side. Andrew Netherby, a six-foot four-inch armorer with a bodybuilder’s physique, personified macho, at least in appearance. Nigel knew better, however. Andrew’s partner was the third member of The Elixir Maidens, Greg, also known as Scarlet.
“Yes. Very nice,” Nigel agreed politely. Over the past year he had learned to get along with Richie and his friends. As long as they kept their sex lives to themselves, he could handle it. At times he grudgingly admitted he even enjoyed their company.
Ruby and his boyfriend, the world famous illusionist Sir Hagen, excused themselves to dance. Nigel began to relax. The night wasn’t going too badly after all. Sondra certainly could have chosen a worse partner. As long as Richie made her happy, that’s what truly mattered.
Again Nigel raised the glass to his lips. At that moment a painfully familiar scent struck him. The door opened and a tall, slender, black-haired man stepped inside. A barrage of emotions stole Nigel’s breath and he gagged on his drink. The black-haired man’s gaze riveted to him. Eyes like ebony glass fixed on Nigel who fought to regain his composure. Somewhere beyond his panic, Nigel realized the man looked as startled as he felt. Then his expression turned cold and a slight yet glacial smile tugged at his slender lips.
“Are you okay?” Andrew asked, patting Nigel on the back with one hand while he grasped a napkin with the other and blotted wine off the front of his jacket.
“Yes. Fine. Thank you.” Nigel dragged a hand across his mouth, his gaze still fixed on the newcomer who had turned his attention to the bride and groom. Richie, a wide grin on his handsome face, embraced the black-haired man tightly.
Nigel’s heart throbbed painfully in his chest. He broke out in a cold sweat. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t! Not now. Not when his life was going just as he wanted it to.
Standing across the room, looking as proud and invulnerable as ever, was the one man who could destroy his life in every possible way.
The room seemed to blur for a moment. Nigel was hurled into the past, nearly two thousand years, to a time when he had no real identity of his own but was called by a variation of his master’s name -- Cassipor.
* * *
A sick thrill coursed through Cassipor when he first arrived at Ludus Magnus, one of Rome’s greatest schools for gladiators. Selected as a gift for the emperor because of his strength and physique, he intended to make the most of this opportunity to gain the privileges a slave could earn in the amphitheatre. It was either that or die a quick, painful death.
After a brief look at the barracks, he was marched to the arena where masses of grunting, sweaty warriors trained with a variety of weapons. The instructors were experienced gladiators, older than many of the trainees.
Cassipor was to train as a Samnite -- a sword-wielding, helmeted warrior. His first thought upon seeing the man in charge of his instruction was that he didn’t appear much older than Cassipor himself. He wore his thick black hair short. His face, an interesting series of sharp lines and smooth planes, appeared rather exotic. Areus was his name, and in spite of his obvious youth, he had proven himself many times in the amphitheatre. Known as a warrior without peer, it was his duty to mold his students into gladiators.
Areus wore a calm expression that was completely at odds with the savage lessons he taught. Tall and far leaner than most of the other warriors, he moved with remarkable grace and subtle power. Like a whipcord. Cassipor could have watched him mo
ve all day without growing weary. The way he handled his sword left Cassipor spellbound, so much that within the first hour he found his thoughts drifting in an unspeakable direction. His gaze lingered over Areus’ long, powerful legs and carefully studied the play of muscles in his shoulders and back as he wielded the sword.
With swiftness that stole Cassipor’s breath, Areus disarmed him and knocked him flat on his back. The tip of his short sword pressed so close to Cassipor’s throat that he feared swallowing lest the mere movement drive the blade into his flesh. He stared up into eyes so black and gleaming they looked like polished marble.
“Let your thoughts drift like that in the amphitheatre and you’ll be dead in moments,” Areus said. His calm, smooth voice seemed to caress each and every syllable. The scathing look in his black, black eyes almost made Cassipor cringe. “Get up.”
The sword point left Cassipor’s throat and Areus strode among the drilling men, not so much as casting another glance in Cassipor’s direction. It was as if that single mistake had made him unworthy in the remote, impossibly perfect warrior’s eyes. His teeth clenched and his hand tight on the sword, Cassipor continued training with renewed vigor. He had gone to Ludus Magnus with the will to survive and dreams of grandeur. Now another goal surfaced, overshadowing all others -- to gain Areus’ respect.
* * *
Daniel welcomed the embrace of his vampiric son, Richie, whom he hadn’t seen in far too long. In spite of a recent injury, he had traveled day and night to arrive in time for Richie’s wedding. He’d been away from home when the invitation arrived and was glad he hadn’t missed the entire night, even if he hadn’t caught the ceremony.
Though he focused his complete attention on Richie, he was intensely aware of another familiar presence. Just the sight and scent of Cassipor -- or Nigel as he preferred to be called now -- made his heart thump wildly in his chest. Those days of slavery and senseless violence evoked such bitter memories, and also some sweet ones. Neither were worth thinking about anymore. Daniel had been called Areus back then, but that was long ago. He and Nigel were different people now. Even then the younger man hadn’t been ready to accept the magnitude of what they’d shared.
Nigel’s presence tonight didn’t come as a surprise. Daniel had known about him from talking to Richie, yet had never revealed their connection. It had to remain a secret, something he would never tell, though part of him longed to blurt out the past he shared with the stubborn, self-righteous fool.
Damn! No matter how well he’d prepared himself, he couldn’t control the emotions coursing through him in the presence of the one man who affected him like no other. Regardless, Daniel was an expert at hiding what he felt, seeming calm and collected when inside he was falling apart.
Not that he was falling apart, of course.
“Daniel, I’m so glad to see you,” Richie said, squeezing him tighter.
Daniel drew a sharp breath and Richie immediately let him go, gazing into his eyes with concern. He said in a low voice, “You’re hurt.”
“Nothing to worry about, hon,” he reassured his offspring. “You know I was away when your invitation arrived, but as soon as Rafe contacted me and let me know about the wedding, I dropped everything and jumped on the first plane. Didn’t want to miss your monumental moment. And speaking of that, this must be Sondra.” He turned to the lovely young woman standing close to Richie’s side and extended his hand.
“Yes.” She smiled rather nervously.
It was so nice seeing young vamps who still had respect for their elders. When she slipped her hand into his, he grinned in a manner meant to put her at ease.
“Richie has told me so much about you, Master --”
“Just call me Daniel, hon.” He gently tugged her into his arms and kissed her cheek. “Welcome to the family.”
“Oh! Daniel!” Greg, Richie’s favorite offspring, rushed over and kissed him on both cheeks. A tall, powerfully-built though rather shy-looking man followed behind him.
“Hello, Greg.” Daniel returned the exuberant embrace.
“It’s so good for the whole family to be together again.” Greg grinned. “How long can you stay?”
“I’ll be around for a little while,” Daniel said. In truth, he could use the rest. He and one of his youngest offspring had already rented a hotel suite in town. The past several months had been exhausting, yet it had taken this recent injury to force him into considering a vacation. He glanced from Greg to the hulk behind him, then back to Greg again. “This must be the armorer you told me about.”
“Yes. Daniel, this is Andrew.”
“You weren’t lying when you said he was gorgeous.”
Andrew’s handsome face turned scarlet. Another refreshing character. It was next to impossible to find a man that pumped who didn’t have an overblown ego.
“Andrew, this is Daniel, my grandfather,” Greg continued.
His brow furrowing in mock agony, Daniel said, “Oh, don’t say that. It makes me feel ancient.”
Chuckling, Richie said, “You are ancient.”
Sondra looked confused. “Isn’t that a good thing for our kind?”
“I’d rather be thought of as a young phenomenon,” Daniel teased.
“It’s something like three thousand years too late for that, isn’t it?” Richie said.
“You always were a brat,” Daniel told him. “And after I dropped everything and rushed here for you.”
Arching an eyebrow, Richie said, “So who was he?”
“Just some guy in Romania.”
“Romania? How gothic of you.” Greg smirked.
Daniel raised his eyes to heaven. “Make that two brats.”
“We’re so happy you could be here,” Sondra interjected. “I have to introduce you to my Creator.” She took his hand and tugged him toward the head table where Nigel was still mopping up the wine he’d spat all over himself.
Obviously Richie hadn’t mentioned him, at least by name. He and his charming bride were most likely still walking on eggshells around the man who put “homophobic” in the dictionary. Richie had mentioned how much trouble Nigel had put the couple through before he finally agreed to accept a son-in-law who, for his job, dressed in drag. The last thing Richie would have wanted to tell him was that his own Creator was openly gay. The irony of the situation nearly hurled Daniel into a laughing fit, but he controlled himself. This was, after all, Richie and Sondra’s wedding, not his and Nigel’s coming out party, so to speak.
“Daniel, this is Nigel,” Sondra said.
For a long moment their gazes locked. Their discomfort was magnified by a rush of sexual attraction so powerful it was impossible the other vampires didn’t notice by their scent alone. Daniel could control just about anything except that damn rise in body heat and magnification of natural musk easily discernable to vampiric senses. Nigel’s delectable aroma hung heavily in the air, so potent that Daniel had to will his cock into submission. Fuck, if he let his emotions take over, he’d be sporting an erection that could rival any sword he’d ever carried.
“Y… you two know each other?” Richie asked.
“I’d say so,” Ruby said. Ruby extended his hand to Daniel. “Nice to see you again, Grandpa.”
“Three brats and this one isn’t even related by blood,” Daniel sneered, but shook Ruby’s hand. When the redhead introduced his boyfriend, Hagen, Daniel had to force himself to keep his attention focused on the couple and not turn back to Nigel.
“So do you know each other, Nigel?” Sondra glanced from her Creator to Daniel.
Nigel’s gaze fixed on Daniel’s with a coldness that nearly took him aback, even after all their past battles. Beneath the icy surface of his eyes, Daniel saw a hint of desperation that wounded him more than he wanted to admit. It shouldn’t matter. Not after all this time.
“No, we don’t,” Daniel lied. “At first glance, he looked like someone I used to know.”
Nigel smiled slightly and took the hand Daniel offered. The tou
ch was like an electric shock. High voltage and too painful to endure. Both men dropped each other’s hands quickly and an uncomfortable silence settled over the table.
Ruby cleared his throat and said, “Why don’t you sit, Daniel, and I’ll get you a drink. You look a little pale, baby, even for one of us. When’s the last time you had a bite? Literally, I mean.”
“Yeah, I want to hear about what’s been going on.” Richie spoke close to Daniel’s ear.
Daniel brushed past Richie and took a seat at the table. “This is your wedding. Shouldn’t you have other things on your mind?”
“But --”
“No buts. Go dance with your bride.”
Sondra grasped Richie’s arm and tugged gently. Their gazes met and they smiled lovingly at one another before he led her toward the dance floor.
Much better. He didn’t want Richie involved in his problems, at least not at his wedding. Besides, his recent business was over and he intended to take full advantage of this rest period. Or at least he had. At the moment his insides were churning like a young mortal suffering through his first crush. All because of fucking Nigel. Still, it had been that way from the first. From the moment he’d set eyes on Cassipor, he’d wanted him with every fiber of his being.
* * *
Areus stood, watching his students shift stances and maneuver their heavy training swords. After several months, he’d weeded out the inferior ones so that the best remained. He only worked with the finest. Unlike most other gladiators, he wasn’t owned by the emperor, though his master, known as Flavius, was among the emperor’s favorites. Through lies and mind manipulation innate to blood drinkers, Flavius had convinced the emperor to allow Areus to enter the games. After proving himself a rare commodity, Areus had been brought to Ludus Magnus to teach. The art of fighting was his life. Even as a mortal he had excelled in armed and unarmed combat. Nothing compared to the excitement of battle, except perhaps the thrill of lust, especially bloodlust. Yet to Areus, such vampiric passion meant little without a measure of affection.